


Meet the Pyro

by doppeldonger



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Gen, Male Pyro, Mentions of drugs, Other, general pyromania, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 06:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6893761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doppeldonger/pseuds/doppeldonger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief character study of who Pyro is and how he came to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet the Pyro

Was it in his nature? To be a cold hearted killer who revels in others’ agony?

He wasn't so sure.

His father was a heavy drinker, and when he was in the right mood (which happened to be the case whenever he drank) he would beat his mother, his squinty eyes bearing no remorse. That sounded like a cliché, but it wasn't something nice and normal for him to watch his father hurt his mother every single day. His mother getting enraged one day and stabbing his father exactly fourteen times in the chest –his heart, to be exact- was not something to easily deal with either.

He was only seven years old.

His father being dead and his mother being in jail left only one option for the boy who had no other relatives: orphanage. Orphanages give little boys and girls the chance to gain what they lost along with their parents.

However, his was not willing to give him any chances.

He met a many children around his age there, who were not as innocent as little boys and girls are supposed to be. During the following years he spent –suffered!- at the orphanage, he got insulted, beaten, drugged and raped; thinking he must have done something too horrible to be punished this badly, he accepted all this without an objection.

He was only seventeen when he was (finally) taken to a hospital, in a very injured and comatose state. The authorities of the orphanage commented nothing, and took him back as soon as he was okay enough to walk in pain. Easy enough.

There was no change in the rules or the attitudes, and thus, the vicious cycle continued. He was certain that constantly being high and hurt was starting to cause him to slowly lose himself (His mind? He was not certain).

And then, that huge, horrifying fire came. The fire that destroyed the whole orphanage, engulfing the whole building with a blazing hot embrace and burning it down along with the orphans and authorities inside.

Only one person had survived, even nearly without a scratch.

He had a pleased, almost angelic smile on his blackened face as he watched the burnt, crusted bodies when the police arrived.

It was not easy for the court to decide whether he was sane or not; however the decision being eventually made, he made his way to jail.

Next fifteen years passed just as if he was at the orphanage, but there were exciting rumors that reached even him. Was he going to be kept in prison for the rest of his life, or with the few changes in law, be executed?

The rumors came to a  stop as abruptly as they started. Then, a woman came to see him.

He did not know her. Was she a distant relative? Not likely. A relative of those crusted things which were once called children? Possibly. As he observed the middle aged woman sitting confidently in her stylish purple suit that fit her curves perfectly, he was not very sure about that either. The woman had a superior air, like she commanded hundreds of people to do her bidding every day with ease; something that made him respect her, although not shy away from her.

The woman who had her dark hair in a nice bun said she had came to him to make an offer, her enchanting voice booming. He was not very ambitious to learn, since offers had meant pain for him through all these years; but she had some things to say.

"I will get you out of here, just like I made them draw back the possible verdict of execution of you.”

He raised an eyebrow, of course he didn't believe her. Or... Did he? The woman seemed capable of doing anything she wanted, getting her hands on anything she desired-

"If you agree to work for me."

A-ha, that part of the offer. He snorted, rolling his eyes at her as he crossed is arms across his chest.

"I guarantee you will have much better conditions, and you will find your job… very interesting." She  flashed him an arrogant smile. "I know why you are in jail." She leaned closer and whispered, "Are you sorry for what you have done? Burning people relentlessly, giving them the most painful death?"

He tilted his head and pondered upon it for a brief moment, and with a near-innocent laugh, he replied, "No."

She let out a pleased chuckle in response. "Then we're on the right track." He couldn't help but become curious about this interesting woman and the kind of a job she would offer. "You will be hired by Builders League United and work for them as their Pyro. Your job will be burning down the enemy team, Reliable Excavation Demolition, to death."

He laughed again, a lot less innocently this time. He didn't know about any of the names she mentioned, he also couldn't see any reason for him to accept such a weird offer from an anonymous woman visiting him in jail. Even if such a job were be real, he would be back in jail without even noticing.

Right?

He did enjoy the idea of burning people down, though.

"We have a respawn system that allows the nine members of each team to get back to life with ease, be it from suffering from a bullet to the head or being blown to pieces thanks to a missile; so you won't be exactly committing murder, thus will not be charged."

That sounded crazy.

Being well aware that her opponent was puzzled (and definitely not believing her) she produced a photograph from inside her fancy purse. "I believe you know this gentleman."

The 'gentleman' was no other person than one of his drugdealer/rapist in the orphanage, in red clothing. "You will be fighting against him.” His face became unreadable for a moment- that was som game changer.

"If you accept my offer."

He looked up into her eyes, meeting them with his huge, sparkling ones and never lost eye contact while giving his answer, a mischievous grin on his face.

One week passed, and his flamethrower was already the cause of most of the screams –the agonized wails- at 2fort.

Was this in his nature? Was it caused by nurture?

He no longer paid any mind to such trivial questions as he slowly became the nameless, soulless, anonymous killing machine behind the lifeless goggles of his shiny optical mask.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a story I wrote back in 2012, I polished it up a little and here we are!


End file.
